Opening Party for Illustrations

This party was part of the Presque Isle First Friday Art Walk. These photos were taken by Connie Carmen Gagnon, a very talented photographer.

Joile Lapine

Jolie Lapine
Illustrated by Lara Cannon
Written by Melissa Crowe

What’s this—at the door—fairest rabbit of all?
Why, it’s Jolie Lapine, belle of Bunny Ball.
Her hops seem to float--she’s a cloud of pink tulle—
Oh, monsieur, take her hand—do not be a fool.

Admire her ribbons, her ears like pink silk,
Her eyes rarest jewels, her fur like sweet milk.
Ah, Jolie Lapine! If you searched all of France,
You’d not find one lovelier with whom to dance.

http://melissacrowe.blogspot.com/

Noblesse de Renard

Dragonfly Witch

Ol Tom

Ol’ Tom
Illustrated by Lara Cannon
Written by Melissa Crowe

To traverse hill and dale sitting stately astride
This stallionesque turtle’s an elegant ride,
And he’s never been known to startle or buck.
No, he who owns this mount’s a man of great luck.

He’ll arrive full unscathed, not a hair out of place,
Not so much as a speckle of mud on his face.
And as for a trifle like pace, never fear—
You can get there from here well inside of a year!

Mouse Folk

Mouse Folk
Illustrated by Lara Cannon
Written by Melissa Crowe

A hard scrabble life they take on this earth,
But such pleasant peasants, mice full of mirth,
Are these four little ladies who live ‘hind the walls
And at night tiptoe out to scavenge the halls

And the King’s massive kitchens for tiniest crumb
Mother reminding the smallest to keep always mum
Till they creep back to mouse hole and from leftovers mean
Mouse magic produces pies fit for the Queen!

King Ferdinand, his Frogness

King Ferdinand, his Frogness
Illustrated by Lara Cannon
Written by Melissa Crowe

He’s—ribbit—regal, he’s—ribbit—wise,
A leader beloved and—ribbit—handsome of eyes.
His crown bejeweled and his scepter agleam,
He---ribbit—rules like a right royal dream.

We love him! We hail him! We hope against hope
That he won’t meet a princess with whom to elope,
For we’ll lose him (and simply the thought makes us wince)
When her—ribbit—kiss reduces our king to a prince.